


You Don't See Me

by Feeshies



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, even though there's literal sex it's still one-sided pining lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22283470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feeshies/pseuds/Feeshies
Summary: Orsino returns to the friend he had secretly pined for in the hopes of chasing away the loneliness he had felt for so long, only to be left with a deeper feeling of emptiness.Alt summary: two sad fucks sad fuck
Relationships: Orsino/Quentin (Dragon Age), quensino
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	You Don't See Me

Orsino had seen Quentin use his hands many times before. He remembered absentmindedly watching the precise movements of Quentin’s hands when he would draw in their cell. He remembered the longing in his chest as he watched Quentin’s fingers lovingly caress his wife's face. He remembered watching with both fascination and horror while Quentin’s hands moved expertly to stitch a body back together.

None of this care was found in the way Quentin undid Orsino’s buttons.

His clothing was pried off of him, not forceful enough to damage his distinctive robes, but certainly enough to make a point. What that point was, Orsino still wasn’t sure. He didn’t care either. Quentin’s movements were hurried, but still as meticulous as always. It seemed that even in times of emotional distress, his attention to detail never dulled. Still, Orsino couldn’t help but wish for more. He wished to feel the scratch of Quentin’s stubble against his cheek as he leaned in to kiss his neck. He wished to feel the full expanse of Quentin’s hand running down his bare chest, rather than the hasty touch of his fingertips. It didn’t seem like he was trying to tease him. Quentin’s mind was somewhere else.

Orsino couldn’t help but remember how he used to admire Quentin when they were in the Gallows together. He was tall, handsome, and brilliant mage whose Starkhavian accent helped add an air of mystery about him. He probably would have been one of the most sought after men in the Circle, if every other word that came out of his mouth wasn’t utterly horrifying. His smile was charming, but it seemed that his smile would only appear on his face after leaning in close to his ear and whispering something like “isn’t it weird how your teeth are going to outlive you?”. 

He remembered seeing Quentin with his wife and realizing how much gentler and natural his smile would become. Even the simple act of seeing her walk across the room seemed to remove all of the tension from his face. In those moments, he was no longer a creepy would-be necromancer, but just a man who was hopelessly in love.

There was no smile present on his face in that moment. As Quentin pushed Orsino down against his desk, his expression remained cold and distant. His gray eyes were concealed by the shadows on his face. 

Quentin slid his robes down his lean body, not like a lover but like a butcher removing the skin from an animal. Orsino would have killed for a reaction. A loving caress down his torso, small kisses peppered along his collarbone, a teasing remark like “huh, don’t tell me that the Circle cut food rations again” as his lips formed a smirk against his ribcage.

But instead, there was nothing. It was like he barely acknowledged his presence. The way Quentin removed his own robes lacked any of the care and finesse he put into his work. Even the performance of enthusiasm would have stopped Orsino’s heart from aching.

Orsino remembered seeing Quentin’s body when they were young men. The Circle offered them little privacy and Quentin was a man born without shame. Not that Orsino complained. There were worse individuals he could have shared a cell with.

He barely had any time to catch a glimpse of his body before he was leaning over him again. Since he was closer, it was easier for Orsino to see his eyes. The eyes were a dull gray with a tiny specks of silver scattered throughout and bloodshot from the many sleepless nights he spent crying. Orsino continued to look into his eyes, hoping that he would look back.

The feeling of Quentin’s hand gripping his thigh sent sparks up Orsino’s spine. It wasn’t a loving touch nor was it an aggressive one. The touch was was just as distant as all of Quentin’s behavior that evening, but it was  _ something _ . The simple gesture was enough to remind Orsino of how alone he had been. When was the last time he had been touched? When was the last time he had been vulnerable? Honestly, he had difficulty remembering.

At least Quentin was present enough to prepare him. Orsino closed his eyes so he could focus on the sensation and not on Quentin’s disinterested face. Not angry, just lost. Orsino had seen Tranquil with more lively expressions.

“Are you alright?”

The first words spoken since they had started.

Orsino didn’t trust his ability to speak without his true emotions seeping through, so he just nodded.

Besides, what could he have said?

When Quentin finally entered him, a gasp escaped Orsino’s throat. They were still for a moment, with Quintin’s chest pressed flat against Orsino’s. No more space between them. Orsino wanted to wrap his arms and legs around his torso. Claw his nails into his back. Kiss him furiously without any care of whether he was doing a good job or not. Anything to savor this feeling of closeness he had been deprived of for so long. But he didn’t. It wouldn’t be right.

He thought back to their days in the Circle. All of the chances they had and lost. All of the things they could have done with each other in the darkness of their cell. All of the things he could have said. Was  _ this  _ what he wanted? It couldn’t be. Physically they were connected, but emotionally they might as well have the thick stone walls of the Gallows separating them.

Still, Orsino managed to lose himself into the animalistic side of things as Quentin began fucking him into his desk. He gripped the edge of the desk, bucking into Quentin’s movements. Quentin continued to be disappointingly quiet, although Orsino swore he could feel the hand gripping his thigh tighten.

Despite everything, he could feel the pleasure mounting. The closer he felt himself getting, the less he was able to deprive himself of what he truly wanted. He wrapped his quivering arms and legs around Quentin, holding him close. Quentin’s movements stopped, but Orsino didn’t care. He let himself live in the moment. The feeling of his skin under his fingers, providing the only warmth he’d experienced from him. Listening to the sound of their breathing slowly becoming more in sync. And Quentin’s eyes. For once, they were looking right into his.

Orsino couldn’t take it anymore. He pressed his lips against his, reaching up to grip the back of his head. He felt Quentin jolt against him, but then he returned the kiss. Orsino’s lips moved clumsily as he tried to mask the quiet sobs he couldn’t hold back. This is what he wanted. To be seen.

He came without a word but with a thousand emotions rushing through his mind at once. Afterwards, he was exhausted both physically and mentally. But he was also overcome with bliss. The feeling of being cared for, being wanted, maybe even being loved, nothing else mattered to him at that moment. The Gallows didn’t matter. The stress of being the First Enchanter didn’t matter. When Quentin buried his face into his neck and cried out a name that was not his, that didn’t matter either.

When it was over, Orsino remained sprawled out on the desk. It didn’t take long for the bliss to pass and the emptiness to return. Quentin managed to get dressed without Orsino noticing. It wasn’t like he expected pillow talk from him or anything. But he felt so cold.

Quentin stood with his back facing him, clawing his fingers through his hair.

Orsino was about to say something, but Quentin spoke first.

“You will never replace her.”

His voice was trembling and so soft that Orsino knew he wasn’t talking to him.

Still, as Orsino sat up and wrapped his robes around his shoulders, he couldn’t stop himself from responding.

“I know.”


End file.
